


Office Engagement

by WhippedMeringue



Series: Working Lunches [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Oral Sex, Possessive Ben Solo, Possessive Kylo Ren, Praise Kink, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-23 15:37:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19704355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhippedMeringue/pseuds/WhippedMeringue
Summary: The CTO of First Order Technologies finds out his lovely coworker is engaged and he is not happy.Just a shamelessly self-indulgent one shot. Enjoy.





	Office Engagement

**Author's Note:**

> This is some dubious consent if that wasn't clear from The premise and the tags. It's something addressed within the fic and Ben Solo has some problematic notions of consent. Don't say I didn't warn you.
> 
> Also, instead of referring to the Reader Character by name, I have Ben referring to her with nicknames all based on famous TV attorney characters.

“Solo! Tell whoever’s under there giving you post-breakup head that they need to leave.” She had burst through the door, despite his assistant Elrik insisting he was unavailable. It was only Elrik’s screeching that had tipped Ben off in time to push the new marketing associate under his desk with a clear direction not to stop sucking. 

“Whatever do you mean, Matlock?” Tom Waits’ croons just muffled the sloppy noises emerging from his lap, as he fisted the brown curls that were bobbing up and down between his long, toned legs.

Her heels clicked with each step, a stack of black binders clutched to her chest. “While I might entertain this blatant HR violation any other day, we need to discuss work, and I need the pretense of confidentiality to scream my head off at you.”

”Well, I’m certainly not inclined to ask him to stop now,” Ben smirked. For casual Friday she was sporting a white rayon t-shirt french tucked into his favorite thing she owned: a Boss Ponte pencil skirt in emerald green. It was from a few seasons ago, but the color suited her well. And the fit did everything for the hourglass of her figure.

She didn’t skip a beat at the admission. Instead, she rapt her knuckles across the top of his walnut desk. “I don’t care who you are but get out now. I’m certain Mr. Solo will find you again when he is available.”

The aforementioned Chief Technology Officer of First Order Technologies groaned in disappointment as a mortified brunette crawled into view. Well built, a little taller than her, with blue eyes and full lips. He was dressed like every other silicone valley bro with his Patagonia brand vest and loafers. As soon as he was up off his knees, he made a panicked sprint towards the door, not even acknowledging the assistant counsel. 

Ben tucked himself back into his jeans, not concerned with whether he exposed himself or not. “You owe me, Matlock. It isn’t every day a handsome brunette offers to wipe spilled coffee off of my lap.”

She gave him a heaping helping of side-eye and an indignant snort. “You and I both know that isn’t true.” Setting down the binders, she pushed her black Tom Ford frames up her nose. The sharp look on her face was every sexy librarian fetish at once. “I’m assuming you used the Cold Brew ploy?”

”I certainly didn’t use hot coffee.”

Her grin was vulpine. "Next time, do, and spare us this exchange in the future." She was certainly in fighting form, Ben mused. 

”What’s so important that you had to interrupt John’s first try at a blowjob?” He pushed his long raven locks back. He wasn't too upset about the interruption. The novel thrill of the experience and the associate's enthusiasm only just outweighed the lack of skill. John would have been under the table for quite some time before Ben would have just decided to jerk himself off on the guy's face and kick him out. Getting to admire her big tits under that white t-shirt was much more enjoyable. The material stretched and draped just right, and in the direct afternoon sunlight, he swore he could make out her nipples, teasing him.

”His name's James Patterson, from marketing. He graduated from Brown last year with honors, but somehow he’s already in your web.” The disappointment in her voice was unmistakable. This wasn’t the first time she had caught him in a conspicuous position. That had been when she found him railing one of their top investors in the coat room at a dinner for the stockholders. Or maybe it was when she walked in on him fingering the new sales director for the east coast on a conference table just as she was squirting...when he was supposed to be reviewing product information with her. The point was that she had caught him before and he imagined she probably would again. 

But, she still hadn’t taken a seat and it made Ben nervous. “These updates to the data collection algorithms: they don’t comply with our existing privacy policy.”

She had gotten the notes on the update sooner than he expected. He wasn’t planning on enduring her lecture on data privacy protection until next Wednesday. She always acted like he didn’t know about the legal implications. He did, he just didn’t care. “Guess you will need to rewrite the policy.”

A dark storm of fury churned her clear, bright eyes. “None of our partners are going to agree to this. In fact, I’m pretty sure it violates the FTCA. The update is scheduled to start in three weeks! We can’t rewrite a key policy in that time.” Her usually caramel smooth voice went higher and higher with each sentence. Ben would be lying if he said he didn’t love making her crazy. All he needed now was for her to start pulling those silky tresses out of the confines of her bun.

”Guess you’ll be working overtime, Perry Mason.” That should do it. 

She started pacing furiously in front of his desk, hands wildly gesturing. “No fucking way, Solo. This isn’t just some mess you can expect me to clean up! It will upend our entire user agreement! It could cause an absolute PR crisis!” Her hands did fly to her hair, racking it back over her scalp.

”I’m pretty sure cleaning up my messes is your job.” It was like a cat batting at a mouse. He could easily eat her up, but he was having too much fun to quit playing.

”Pryde is going to hear about this. He’s not going to greenlight it.” The General Counsel already had greenlit the proposal, but had asked Ben to keep it from his junior attorney for a few days, to ‘let the wheels get into motion before she could stop them.’ Not that he was going to tell her about Pryde's decision. No way was he letting the GC avoid the firestorm.

”Fuck the GC. This change is necessary if we’re going to meet the Chairman’s expectations for the major rollout in the fall.” That was true. Snoke wanted the data, and Ben had finally figured out how to make the algorithm just subtle enough for users to miss. Even he thought it was too aggressive, but it wasn’t his call. 

She stopped pacing and slammed her hands down on the desk. ”Well guess what, Ben? You can fuck the GC because you seem to be the most knowledgeable on the subject.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the petty line. “That’s certainly true. I give lessons if you want.”

The violence of her eye roll was genuinely impressive. He wondered if she gave anyone else as much sass. “The fact that the MeToo movement hasn’t taken you down yet is unbelievable.”

”It helps that I’m the one getting propositioned.” It was true. He was Ben Fucking Solo, the next Zuckerburg, the next Steve Jobs. And he wasn't just brilliant and wealthy, he was 6'4" and worked his body until he was a fucking brick shithouse. Sure, he had a bit of a temper and little patience for idiots, but men and women alike were eager to climb him like a tree.

She squinted at him, her cute nose wrinkling up in distaste. "Given your complete lack of social graces or charm, I'm not sure how that happens.” Such a tease.

Ben leaned back into his chair, his grey Dolce & Gabbana t-shirt tight on his hard muscles. He let his legs spread just a little so it was obvious he was still at full mast underneath his dark jeans, thanks in part to a spectacular pair roughly eye-level his face and John's recent effort. James's. Whatever. And he didn't want to toot his own horn, but when God gives you a big thick cock, you share it. He waved his hands down, suggestively. ”I’d be happy to show you why anytime.” Another blatant HR violation, but they had been working together long enough to get past that point. Regardless, he was Ben Solo and she would suck it up.

”You and I both know that I’m not your type.”

The answer intrigued him. She didn’t reject his advances but side-stepped them. Discounted herself. There was something to that, he was sure. ”What’s my type?”

”You might fuck any wet hole you can get,” she leaned her hip against his desk, “but you can’t leave the petite, pretty brunettes alone. Perky tits and doll faces. Bonus points for big brown doe eyes. Rey was just the latest.” 

He hoped his face didn’t betray her accuracy. “What makes you say that?”

”Come on, Ben. You constantly remind me how I’m at your beck and call; I’ve obviously seen the women you keep turnstiling in.” It was true, he did have her on a bit of a leash. If he had her working nights or weekends he would fuck with her by making her bring documents to his condo while he played games or dined. If she emailed him while he was lifting or boxing at the corporate fitness complex, he would tell her they needed to discuss the matter in person. What was surprising, though, was that she paid attention. Paid attention to who he was outside of the office. He had only dated Rey for a few months before their recent breakup and he hadn’t taken her to more than a couple company events. His thought his mouthy counsel had been dating some doctor for a while but he didn’t know the guy's name, much less what he looked like. She apparently also kept track of his tendency to fuck young associates. Dirty girl. “So yeah, I know your type, and it isn’t me.”

”And what are you, McBeal?,” he loved teasing her. If he was to make an assessment himself, he would say she was attractive, with a mix of strong and cute features. And she was fucking stacked. Big tits, thick thighs, and a nice ass, like a Kardashian but real. He wouldn’t say no to fucking her, he just had—as she noted— a type. He really did admire how she took everything in stride, though, like a damn champ. 

A posey blush crept into her cheeks. “Sick of your bullshit. I’ve left notes on what specific adjustments will need to be made and how they correspond to different changes in the data algorithms. We need to see how we can revise them next week.” He couldn't help but smile. She knew she wasn’t going to talk him out of the major update. Even if she wouldn’t admit it, she couldn’t fight him. It was in her nature to accommodate him at that point.

She didn't excuse herself or tell him to have a good weekend, instead electing to huff out of the room. He didn’t hate saying goodbye since it usually meant the end of a tirade, but he did love watching her go. Especially in that green skirt.

* * *

Where. The fuck. WAS SHE? 

He triple checked his notifications and yep, she had sent a meeting invite right after her little tiff, scheduling a time to review the changes to the data collection algorithms. He had accepted. Her fucking legal assistant, Allison, was CC'd. So why was it 10:30 am Monday morning, and she had still not shown up for their 10 am meeting?

Ben was allowed to be late to meetings. He often was because he was the fucking CTO, and developer of all of the company's proprietary code. He could make people wait, but no one was allowed to leave him waiting, especially not at a Monday motherfucking morning meeting that he showed up to on time. He was going to give her absolute hell. And if for some reason she was not in her office because she was at home bleeding out from Ebola, he was going to drive over to her apartment and yell at her there. 

The primary product and software development offices were on the 9th floor, so he kept his office there in case he needed to stop around and strike fear into his underlings around deadline time. Her office was up on the 12th floor with the rest of the legal and administrative offices. He never went up there, preferring to make HR come to him with uncomfortable questions he didn't care about, so when he got off the elevator, the 12th-floor receptionist looked at him like she needed a warm jacket because hell had clearly frozen over. "Where's legal?" She pointed a trembling finger left without a word.

As he got further down the hall, he saw several people standing outside an office, making a commotion. Towering over them, he was able to look overhead at the nameplate. It was her office. Had she actually gotten into an accident? A flash of worry and guilt hit him. He looked at the desk just outside her door where he saw Allison and tried to temper any panic he felt. 

Then he spotted it.

A huge arrangement of dozens of white roses. Behind them were tons of balloons and cards. He was pretty sure he smelled cheap champagne. Her happy giggle wove through the crowd of people outside her office, right into his ear. She almost never made that sound around him. Allison just noticed his arrival as he snatched the little card resting among the offensively perfect flowers.

_Congratulations to the Future Mrs. Dameron._

_With Love, Dr. Dameron ;)_

What the fuck?

"Isn't it so lovely?" The middle-aged women's voice was sing-song, the tacky happy way every fucking Hallmark card felt.

It took every synapsis in his brain to keep from flipping the desk over and screaming. "When did this happen?" 

"Oh, just this past Saturday. You know, she doesn't use social media but she told Rose, so we were able to get her a little something." That weekend? He let's her off for one fucking weekend and she gets engaged?

He shot Allison a dark look. "So she missed our meeting?" 

The horror on the woman's face gave him some satisfaction, a slight salve for the absolute fury he felt building up. "Oh gosh, I can get her out here right now-" she started reaching for the phone, but he cut her off, placing his own hand over the receiver.

"No. Don't spoil her moment. Do tell her I will be in my office, waiting to speak with her." He turned back the way he came, knowing that if she wasn't in his office in twenty minutes, he was going to kill her. 

* * *

The first thing he noticed when she came through his office door was that she had styled her hair, curling it into waves instead of hiding it in her standard loose bun. “So sorry I missed our meeting Mr. Solo. This morning's been a little crazy.” She didn’t sound sorry. She sounded like a stupid little girl who forgot her fucking place. At least he could tell from the way her navy sheath dress was askew around her hips that she had run down to find him. She had even forgotten her sexy librarian glasses.

The fifteen minutes since he had left her office had done nothing to calm his nerves. If anything, he was more irritated. The two pours of Pappy’s 23, which he had sacrilegiously opened without the announcement of a firstborn, hadn’t even taken the edge off. When he walked away from her office and got on the elevator, he wasn't entirely sure why he was so fucking angry, he just was. By the time he was back on his floor he knew he was pissed at her specifically, but not why. When he opened the Pappy's he realized she had become the thing he hated the most: something he couldn't have. And he wanted her bad. 

“I heard. I would say congratulations but I guess I’m a little hesitant to enable you.” He took a $70 sip of the bourbon, glaring at her over the glass.

“Says the man drinking before noon.” Even her smirk showed more mirth than snark. She was oblivious to his rage. “What are you hesitant to enable?”

He got up from his desk, wanting to shake the joy out of her until she was dry heaving it. “Getting engaged after six months? Didn’t know you were that worried about dying alone.”

She gave him her trademark eye roll. “I already told you, we dated before he went to Uganda for two years with Doctors Without Borders." Of course, the guy was a saint or something. "Not like you would remember, I guess.”

And then she was pouting. Ben had always wanted to see that pretty bottom lip dip out in frustration, but he never managed to say the words that would make it happen. He imagined her pouting up at him, her perfect ass nestled into his lap, telling him she wanted something and him teasing her before getting her anything and everything she asked for. Then he imagined that smug doctor, who he had immediately googled upon his return to his office. That smug handsome doctor she probably _did_ pout for. If he didn’t already hate the Dameron guy before...

The silence had finally reached 'awkward,' so he tried to temper himself. Sighing, he set his bourbon down on the desk and held out his hand to her. "Well, are you going to show it to me?" 

She was beaming as she walked closer to him, stretching out her delicate hand.

Apparently, he had made a terrible mistake because just seeing it on her manicured finger made him, somehow--impossibly, really--angrier. It was like the physical manifestation of everything wrong in the universe, and he wanted to grab it and chuck it off the roof of their building.

He gruffly caught her wrist, bringing the offending extremity close to his face. Fuck, it wasn’t an awful ring. Ben could do better though. Something big but classy. The sapphire was pretty, but not jaw-dropping, maybe two carats? He would have gone with a diamond, five carats, big enough to scream 'Property of Ben Solo' every time she walked into a room. “Well, I suppose it could be called a ring.”

”I love it.” She didn’t even register his insult, she was so blissed out. Ben was going to kill someone. Probably that shitty doctor first. Then, after he made her watch him slit the bastard's throat, her.

Without warning, he nipped at the tip of the offending finger, teeth dangerously skimming her soft skin. She tried to jerk her hand away but his grip stayed firm. He moved to nip the tip of each digit, making her eyes go wide. Her fingers were so long and delicate, he started suckling them, one at a time, never breaking eye contact. 

“Ben—“ He loved the sound of her voice. He couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a plea. Either was perfect. 

When he started lavishing attention on her ring finger, he felt how loose the ring was. It clearly hasn’t been sized yet, which gave him a malicious idea. 

He pulled the finger all the way into his mouth, moaning around it, watching her blush, then panic. He had clamped his teeth on the digit just under the ring, pulling it off. Without releasing her wrist, he brought his other hand to his mouth and slipped the ring onto his pinky; it just barely fit. 

“Stop playing, Solo.” The fight in her eyes was beautiful. Her spunk was one of his favorite things about her. That and how no matter how hard she fought, she knew he would win.

”I’m not playing, Matlock. I don’t think it looks good on you.” He pulled her to him, keeping a firm grip on her wrist while he slid his arm around her waist, pressing her tits to his chest and his lips to her ears. “You’ve been very bad.”

”What the fuck? Ben, seriously, stop playing.“ The breathless quality of her voice was the key in his ignition.

He kept his voice low as he growled directly into her ear. ”It was fine when you were just fucking them, letting them take you out, but you aren’t allowed to pretend you care. I’ll share you, but only because we both know who you belong to.” It was true. The expectation was when he called, she came, no questions asked, no matter if she was on a date, the company was off for holiday, or it was three in the goddamn morning. If he wanted, he could call her over just to look at her. He made sure she didn’t have time to get close to anyone. How was he supposed to know that some asshole she had only been seeing for six months had the delusions that he could marry her? That he could take from Ben Solo.

And she thought she could promise herself to anyone else? She knew better, she knew she was his. She always had been. “You’ve been very naughty, letting some cocksucker think he can marry you.”

”Please, Ben. Give it back.” Her lip was trembling. He had seen her questioned by the FCC Chairman with a cool smile on her face. The way she was coming undone made his cock twitch. 

He dragged her to his desk, pressing her into the edge of it. “Not until you’ve been punished.” 

Tentatively, he released her wrist, not moving his hand too far, in case she decided to strike out. Given how feisty she could be, he wouldn’t put it past her. She instead withdrew her hand to her own chest, nursing it as if his touch had burned her. Perfect. His hand free, he reached to cup her neck, pulling it to his lips so he could press and open-mouth kiss at the juncture of her jaw. He could feel her shudder as he lavished his tongue across her skin, suckling at the sweat there. With her attention on his mouth, he dropped his hand from her neck, to grab the zipper of her dress. 

He waited for her to scream at him to stop, to tell him no. Instead, her silence begged him to pull the zipper down slowly, exposing the expanse of her back all the way to the swell of her ass.

Despite her curves, her back was so small, his massive hand easily covered it. He could feel her muscles tense under his touch, a wounded doe waiting for the wolf to rip her throat out. 

Ben knew she was strong; she would have told him if she didn’t want it. He also knew that he was past the point of caring. His nose still buried in her neck, he inhaled the scent of her perfume: mandarin, rose, and jasmine, intermingled with bourbon and musk. Delicacy wrapped in strength. But that strength crumbled for him, letting him get so close. It wasn’t enough for Ben, though. He didn’t want to just surround her, he wanted to be inside her. 

He pulled his mouth away from her neck and spun her around, snapping his hip into her's. Having trapped her against the desk, he started grinding his erection against her ass, letting her feel how much he wanted her. The pert little thing felt so good on his dick, and he wanted to tease her with how big and thick he was. He couldn’t see her face, but he bet her eyes were like a deer in headlights, feeling his cock so hard for her. “Feel what you do to me, and you thought I would give you to someone else?” She didn’t make a sound, though, depriving him of her reaction.

Snaking his big hands under her unzipped dress, he reached around, tracing his fingers along her rib cage. He felt the sheer silky lace of her bra and the goose pimples on her skin. He needed to feel more of that skin. Gripping the edge of the garment, he peeled her bra off of her heavy breasts and started kneading them. They were even plumper in his hands than they felt on his chest. They would probably feel great around his dick. His girlfriends normally didn’t have as much going on in the chest area—he was more of an ass man—but he bet he could get her breasts nice and wet and then titfuck her until he covered her face with cum. Her nipples were already hard pebbles, begging to be pinched and pulled. He rolled them between his fingers, making her back arch as he started nibbling her ear. The softest, sweetest moans tried to claw out of her throat, but she was biting them back. He was tired of her holding back.

He started covering feather light kisses along her neck, capturing her attention there, until he felt her relaxing in his grip. That’s when he harshly twisted both nubs, eliciting a sharp yelp. “Fuck!” Much better.

”Such a filthy mouth. I wonder what else I can make it say.” He went back to rubbing her nipples in gentle circles, soothing his injury there. “I bet I can make it scream my name.” He wanted to run his tongue around them, to suck them until they were bruised purple. Fuck, he wanted to see them, but he couldn’t, not just yet. For now, he wanted her bent over his desk. 

Abandoning his affections on her pretty tits, he started pulling out his silk tie with one hand and recovering her wrists with the other. She hardly struggled as he gathered them together and bound them up with his accessory. Satisfied with his work, he pushed her stomach down on the desk, giving her ass a sharp smack. He had seen her doing squats in the company gym, and the results were wonderful. “You thought I was going to share this perfect ass?” No, he was going to claim it as his and his alone. 

He pulled the sheath dress up to her waist and was greeted by a lacy black thong, knocking the air out of his lungs. “You’re so good to me, baby,” he whistled. If only she knew the plans he had for that pretty little tush. He bent down to make a closer inspection, but as soon as he could smell her he couldn't stop himself from mouthing the lips of her pussy through the underwear. The slick of her arousal had already soaked her underwear, and he could just hear her hissing out a swear. Now there was no way he was stopping. He probed her through the lace until he felt her thighs try to rub together, needy for more direct attention. Sliding one finger under the thin crotch, he pulled it to the side, and he saw she was completely bare, with just one soft tuff right above her pretty little clit. The sight had him salivating, and he dove in, hungry. She was tangy like blackberries and tangerines, and her gooey slick swirled around his tongue like honey. “Baby, you taste so good,” he growled from between her thighs. Fuck, he needed more of her. He wanted her gushing sweet nectar till he was drowning in it. He pushed further into her, impaling her with his tongue.

”Oh god,” she was panting now. He couldn’t wait to hear what else she would say. In meetings, she favored terms with five and six syllables, but he believed he could bring her down to three and four letters a word, consistently. While his tongue was busy plunging in and out, he reached into his bottom drawer, pulled out a bottle of lube, and set it on the desk. Ben Solo was always prepared. Before she could react, he pulled his tongue out of her pussy and dragged it up to her tight hole, drenching it in her juices and his spit.

When she squirmed against him, he leveled another smack against her thigh and held her in place. He started prodding her asshole with his tongue, shoving as much of his spit into it as he could. He was going to lube her up and stretch her out before he destroyed her little hole, but he wanted to know she was full of him in every possible way.

Once he was certain he had coated her inside and out, he pulled back to admire his work. Bubbles of spit were drooling out of her tight little hole. She was nice and wet, but he wouldn't risk hurting her. Well, not too much. He grabbed the bottle of lubricant and poured it down the crevice of her ass, lathering her entrance and his fingers. His mouth moved back to her sweet cunt as he started drawing circles around her ass with his index finger. She was wonderfully tight as he popped in just the tip, her hips bucking into his mouth at the new sensation.

The intrusion of his finger into her cute ass must have done something for her, because she got louder, groaning indecipherable phrases as he worked his finger in past the first knuckle. He focused his mouth on lapping and sucking at her clit, slowly moving his thick index finger in and out between her cheeks. “You’re taking my finger so well baby.” He could feel her shiver every time he pulled back to praise her. He felt so torn between getting up to whisper filthy things in her ears and getting his fill of her sticky cream. “Are you going to be a good girl and cum with Daddy’s finger in your ass?” He could feel her pussy clench at the phrase and give a low, unrestrained moan. It seemed that, in fact, he had a bad girl. Knowing she had such a dirty, kinky secret, the kind that made him want to blow his load then and there, had him devouring her like a mad man. He wanted to consume every drop of slick that slipped from her pretty pink pussy until he felt like he had lockjaw. His fingers sped up as well, pushing all the way in. In no time at all, she was screaming, shaking, swearing over his desk, and he felt a fresh wave of her cum dribble down his chin. 

Without removing his finger from her tight hole, he paused to place wet kisses along her thighs and ass. "Don't worry, Princess. Daddy's not even close to finished." And he wasn't. Ben stayed on his knees for almost an hour, sucking at her cunt while he worked her ass with his fingers: one, two, then three, making her cum before each edition. Her legs grew limp against him, the only thing holding her in place was his mouth between her legs. Somewhere along the way, he had unbuttoned his shirt, so her slick could drip down his chest. Even as his knees screamed, he lapped at her, reveling in the tart cream of her cunt.

But he knew that she was still fighting him. Even as she was trembling, making a mess all over his face, she never said his name. Saying it out loud would be admitting to her sin, that she wanted him. He needed to hear her scream it, a declaration that every inch of her body was his. And his cock was becoming painfully needy. "I think you're ready for me now, baby."

That was all the warning he gave her before he pulled his fingers out, soaked in lube, and flipped her onto her back. The strange sensation made her mewl and shake. He tugged her dress down to her stomach, entrapping her still bound wrists further, her dress only covering a sliver of her waistline. He drank in his first look at her naked body. It was at that moment he realized how long he had wanted her. Sure, he had been eating her out and fingerfucking her ass for an hour, but seeing her stretched out on his desk, flushed and sweaty and undone, he knew he had been imagining her like that since she first walked into his office with a stack of papers and a scowl. The same scowl she was somehow still managing as he unbuttoned his dress pants, pulled out his cock and started stroking it to the sight of her. "What's wrong, Princess?"

Her lips pinched slightly. He noticed they were the same color as her nipples. He loved those. Despite her giant rack, they were petite and perky. And her pussy. She must have gotten is lasered for it to be so soft. He really wanted to sink his cock into it, but he couldn't, not yet. Not after he got her ass all nice and ready for him.

He couldn't find a single thing he disliked about her body. Even the stretch marks on her sweet ass and milky thighs. The feeling must have been mutual the way her eyes, pupils blown out, took in every inch of hardened muscle along his chest and abs. He couldn't help but flex a little for her. "You're terrible, Solo."

Unable to resist any longer, he clasped his lips on her pink peaks, kissing nipping at each one. "You know that's not what you're supposed to call me." She shivered, but she stayed quiet, refusing to give him what he wanted. It drove him up the wall.

Grabbing the lube again, he slathered it over his throbbing erection and gave her ass another coat. He pushed her knees up to her chest, spreading her out even further, so her pretty tits were smushed together between her thighs, and he could admire how gooey her cunt looked. It was so inviting he couldn't help but run his cock through the petal soft folds, letting the head of his cock rub against her swollen cunt. He could only imagine how sensitive it was, the way she bucked and squeezed her eyes shut. Aligning his shaft with her tight entrance, he rocked against her, just prodding the sensitive ring, lube pooling beneath her on the desk. "You're such a bad girl, Princess. I'm going to have to pound your tight little ass until you remember to call me 'Daddy.'" She moaned, her eyes opening just a fraction, tears spotting the corners. He leaned down, kissing the tears away before he locked eyes with her. "And then I'm going to absolutely destroy you until you are cumming while my cock is in your ass and you scream my fucking name." He pushed into her, the tip sliding in with little resistance. She bit her lip so hard he thought he saw red beads pop out along her pretty teeth. She was going to keep fighting him, even though they both knew that, in the end, he was going to win. If she was going to fight him, he wasn't going to worry about being tender or gentle anymore. He slammed in all the way to the hilt.

He wasn't sure what was louder: the primeval growl he made as he felt her tight ass seize around him or the string of swears that erupted from her pretty, bloody lips. He pulled out slowly, watching where their bodies joined, savoring every millimeter of taut flesh that tried to swallow him back in on reflex. Ben Solo was a whore who had fucked many a hole, but nothing had ever been as tight as she was. It took every fiber of his being not to just pound her until he blacked out in pleasure. He wasn't holding back for her; he needed time to punish her.

Reaching between them, he slowly dragged his thumb across her cum-covered slit, just barely brushing against her clit. She whined, a small plea escaping as he thrust in and out of her ass. "What's the matter, baby?" his voice was husky and raw.

"Please," her voice cracked.

"Please what, Princess? You need me to play with your pretty clit?" He flicked her bud again but didn't linger. She nodded again, a few drops of blood still dotting her trembling mouth. "You have to ask Daddy nicely." He dipped his thumb into her wet cunt to drive the point home.

The look in her eye was precious. She knew what she had to do, she wanted to do it, she wanted to beg him, but she didn't want to give in. He had faith she would be good for him though. It was in her nature to accommodate him at that point. "Please play with my clit, Daddy."

And just like that, he was ravaging her, rubbing rough circles around her clit with one hand while the other slotted into the grove above her waist, dragging her asshole down on his cock. A litany of profanities broke forth from her crimson lips. She had finally broken for him. He just needed to make sure of her devotion before he worshiped her. "Such a good girl. I hate that I have to punish you, baby, but you need to learn your lesson." He grunted in between his words, an earthquake rolling through him with every thrust he made into her. He was going to quit his job, buy a shitty house in Monterey Bay, and spend the rest of his life fucking her. He couldn't wait to find out what her mouth felt like or what sounds she would make when he buried his cock in her pussy. He couldn't wait to paint the insides of her cunt white. 

"Fuck, Daddy, you feel so good." She was panting and shivering, so close to another release. Her words made him feel a bit like putty, ready to melt around her. Her pink tongue darted out across her bloody lip, and he realized what he really wanted.

He closed his eyes as their lips touched. The tang of iron muddled with her own sweet flavor was intoxicating. She easily let him slip his tongue into her mouth, where she sucked on it like it was never meant to leave. He wished he had started with kissing her; he could do it all day. And the way she smiled when he pulled away slightly, just to look in those pretty wet eyes, he knew he was about to explode. 

Teetering on the edge, he leaned over to kiss the shell of her ear. "Remember what I said, about how I'm going to make you cum?" She nodded. "Do you remember what you have to say?"

"Yes." It was the most perfect sound he had ever heard. He kissed her cheek as he pulled back. 

"Good."

He absolutely manhandled her clit with his thumb while he slipped his fingers into her wet cunt. He could feel his cock filling her ass as his fingers delved in, leaving room for nothing else. He wasn't going to last very long. "That's right, cum with my cock in your ass." She was begging for him to cum, swearing at him, moaning absolute nonsense. "Cum for me, baby, please. I need to hear it." He was so close.

"Please, Ben, please!" He watched her shake and twitch uncontrollably, her back arching off the table as she tried to reach for him with her bound hands. She was beautiful, and all his. Her chorus of his name ripped through him, bringing the sweetest release. He fucked her through his climax, until his hips were sputtering against her.

He collapsed on the table above her, crushing her beneath him. He had never felt so spent in his life. "Such a good girl." He quickly kissed her cheek as he caught his breath.

When he was sure he could stand again, he moved off her and pulled out his softening cock. A satisfying glob of his cum dribbled out of her freshly opened ass. He would need a picture of it to put on his desk later. He scooped her up, cradling her absolutely wrecked body to his as he slid back into his chair. Holding her tight to his chest, he kissed her forehead and traced circles on her exposed shoulder. "You did so good, baby. You did so good for Daddy." He knew that even though she was probably high on endorphins at that moment, soon she would come out of subspace. He needed to ease his angel back down to earth. 

Except she wasn't his. 

The thought was like a two-tonne stack of cinder blocks slamming him into the pavement. The whole reason they were in such a disheveled state was because, roughly two hours prior, she was flitting around the office showing off a new piece of jewelry. 

The same thought seemed to have crept into her mind as well. He was hoping she would be content for just a little longer, but he should have known her smart ass would recover brain functions too soon. "Fuck, Ben. We can't--I can't--Please Ben, you have to give it back." She started pawing at his opened dress shirt, trying to reach his hand. 

He gripped her tighter, kissing her through her protests. "Not yet, baby. Not yet." He had to keep it off of her finger.

"Ben, please," she was starting to cry. He felt like an asshole, but he had too. He knew he would hurt her, but he would make it up to her a million times over.

"No, baby, don't cry. Here's what going to happen," he reached for her hand and began kissing it, gently. "You're going to tell that doctor of yours that you sent it out to be sized. I'll even have it done for you, pretty girl." He counted the days in his head if he sent the thing off to New York. It would give him just enough time. "It'll take ten days. And then, by the time you get it back, you won't want it anymore."

She sniffled against him, her eye makeup smeared across her cheek and his dress shirt. Her lips were puffy and swollen from her self harm, and her hair looked like a bird's nest. She was an absolute mess. A beautiful mess. "Why not?" Her eyes blinked up at him, tears clumping her lashes together. 

"Because, Princess," he purred into her ear, "in ten days, you won't want anything _but_ me."

**Author's Note:**

> WELP. IMMA TRASH PANDA. 
> 
> Yeah, I had to get that out on paper before it caused me to spontaneously combust. I might explore this little smut-verse later, but this is enough trash for now. Back to my main WIP.
> 
> <3 xoxoxo


End file.
